


Family don't end in blood

by Sleepy_Impala (LuceeWithAPen)



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha Scott, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Argent Family Feels, Crack, Established Relationship, F/M, Hale Family Feels, I suck at tags, Kinda, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, McCall Family Feels, Multi, Nogitsune, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski is a Winchester (Supernatural), Stilinski Family Feels, Supernatural season 13, Teen Wolf Season Three, Warning: Kate Argent, Winchester Family (Supernatural) Feels, all the relationships are established, and pain, but it has emotion, feels all around, give it a go though, its definitely crack, so enjoy tha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2020-09-24 09:17:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20356099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuceeWithAPen/pseuds/Sleepy_Impala
Summary: When it starts to look like all hope is lost, when the Nogitsune seems to be winning, Sheriff Stilinksi goes back on a promise he made to Stiles and calls his brothers in to save the day. Sam and Dean would do anything to protect their little brother, even get along with a pack of werewolves and a family of hunters they swore to never work with again.But it isn't all sunshine and roses after that, obviously, things go wrong. Can the pack and the Winchesters band together when it matters most to save all their lives?I hit a block with this fic, and decided to just rewrite the plotline? Nemeton/Jack storyline was too unbelievably and difficult to work around so I changed it. Apologies for those who were set on it.*The pack is whole, NO ONE DIED!**season 13 of supernatural is exactly as it was in the show, Jack is soulless, he killed Mary and Michael - this is set a few days after that, THE ENDING OF SEASON 13 DOES NOT EXIST IN THIS. Also, for reasons, it's only been six years since season 1 started, each season taking up half a year instead of a full one, or something like that - it just doesn't make sense in my story for it to be like 14 years since Sam left for college.***





	1. Long Distance Call

**Author's Note:**

> So, it’s been a while since I’ve watched Teen Wolf, so bear that in mind and feel free to point out any inconsistencies but I had to write this before it completely left my mind. I'm hoping I can get away with inconsistencies since it's taking place in an alternate universe with a pack that is whole so there's that

“This has gotten out of hand!” The sheriff swore, his arms folded across his chest, fists clenched as he fought back the urge to free his son who was looking at him with pleading eyes from behind the duct tape plastered across his face.

“We’re doing everything we can.” Melissa soothed, her hand coming to rest on the Sheriffs shoulder to offer comfort.

Stiles (No that thing is not my son!) scoffed, a knowing glint in his eyes.

The sheriff turned, shrugging Melissa’s hand off his shoulder and almost walking through Hale in his haste to get to his phone. He dialled a familiar number from memory alone and hesitantly lifted the phone to his ear, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

It rang for a while, before going to voicemail a familiar voice speaking “This is Dean. You should not have this number.” The Sheriff swore before trying another number “Leave your name, number and nightmare after the tone.” Losing hope, he tried the final number he knew “this is dean’s other, other cell so you must know what to do”

“Dean, please call me back… it’s Stiles. We need help” He slumped into a seat, his elbows resting on his knees and his face in his hands. “Now we’ve done everything we can.”

He risked a glance at the thing parading around as his son and felt a little bit of comfort when he saw the barely concealed fear in his eyes.

***

“Dean, please call me back… it’s Stiles. We need help.” Dean felt his heart drop, and he barely caught the bottle of beer he had been holding. He was typing the number in barely a second later, his heart racing, breathing heavy. Today had been a bad day and this was the icing on the cake.

“Hello?” The sheriff’s voice was groggy with sleep, and Dean was betting he hadn’t even opened his eyes before answering the call.

“It’s Dean.” There wasn’t time for niceties if there was something wrong with Stiles he should already be there.

“It’s been too long.” The reprimand was clear in his tone, but Dean knew he was buying time to find privacy to talk, especially on hearing the front door close.

“It’s been 5 years and that door is still sticking?”

“Well, I’m still waiting on you to fix it.”

Dean didn’t reply, the guilt at avoiding this part of his family for a decade rearing to the surface, even if he had only been doing it to protect them.

When it became clear that Dean wasn’t going to respond the Sheriff cleared his throat and began to speak “Listen we’ve got a situation, we could really use a hand. I don’t want to freak you out by telling you stuff without explaining it thoroughly, but if you could get here asap, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Is he hurt?” Dean forced the words out past the blockage in his throat.

“He’s not dying, but he could use a hand.” The sheriff answered, and Dean could tell this was hard on the other man as well.

“Give us 24 hours”

“It’s going to take at least 30 hours, Dean.” The Sheriff warned, exasperated.

“It’s for Stiles. I’ll be there in 24, earlier if possible.” He hung up without saying goodbye, already swinging into action; he downed his beer, wiping the traces off his face before going to wake Sammy and get Cas and Jack ready.

Within half an hour they were on the road, music playing quietly and his foot pressing on the accelerator a little too hard.

“So, what the hell is a Stiles?” Jack finally asked he’d been trying to find the right words since they had piled into the car, it seemed he had decided to just ask.

“Our brother.” Sam replied, “He’ll be eighteen now, same dad different mom. I think you’ll like him.”

“If there’s something going on bad enough for Noah to call us, we need to be prepared, he might not be Stiles.” Dean interrupted, not taking his eyes off the road. He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder and leant into Cas. Touch for a second before pulling away.

“You think he’s possessed?” Sam asked, thankfully he was sitting in the front which meant Cas’ subtle touch had gone unnoticed – it’s not that Dean is ashamed of his relationship with Cas, it's just he wants it to stay his, wants to have something of his own, for as long as he can.

“I think Noah said he wasn’t in danger of dying, but that he needed help.”

“Possession would explain that it could also be any number of things.” Sam rushed to remind Dean.

“Yeah!” Jack exclaimed, excited about this conversation for some reason Dean couldn’t decipher. “He could have been bitten by a werewolf, or a vampire or anything like that! Oh…. Sorry” He caught himself, realising that this was probably a touchy subject for them, and Dean watched his mouth silently form the words ‘What Would the Winchesters Do’ in the rearview mirror.

“When was the last time you actually saw Stiles?” Cas asked, head tilted to one side inquisitively, trying to move the conversation away from touchy subjects.

“Not long after we started looking for dad,” Sam answered after a few seconds deliberation, things had been happening so quickly the past few years

“We decided it was too dangerous once it became clear demons were involved.” Dean elaborated, “his dad, the man who raised him, didn’t want him involved in any of this stuff, especially not after his mom died.”

“Not that Noah had any hope in keeping him away, he’s too smart for his own good, even as a kid he could see through all our bullshit.”

“Ran circles around us both, Sammy here was always jealous that he wasn’t the smartest one in the room, beaten by a kid almost half his age.” Dean laughed, allowing himself to remember the things from his past, the things he had squished down for so long. The reminders were usually painful, but now that he knew he would be seeing Stiles soon he allowed himself to bask in the memories.

It wasn’t long after that that Sam gave in and fell asleep with his head tilted against the window, Jack flicked his eyes between the Winchesters as though he couldn’t decide who he was going to emulate in that moment, before leaning against his own window and closing his eyes.

Dean drove the rest of the way towards his baby brother with Cas’ hands on his shoulders and his lips pressed gently against the back of his neck.


	2. O Brother Where Art Thou?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For story reasons – Parish is already out as a hellhound 😊  
Also, I changed Sheriff Stilinksi's name to Noah cause I was confusing myself with two John's :)

The Sheriff glared at his phone before an amused smile worked its way onto his face, though the Winchesters weren’t his sons he had always loved them as his own. It had caused more than one argument with their father since he refused to silently watch them be mistreated – but Dean was so loyal he’d do anything John asked even if it was the exact opposite of what he wanted or needed. The Sheriff had learnt early on not to question their father in front of the boys – it was a sure way to close Dean off to any attempt to help. Dean was a soldier, he followed orders – that’s all there was to it.

The door shut with a dull thud, after catching on the frame – Stiles had refused to let anyone fix it after Dean had promised to do it, holding on to a childish idea that once it was done Dean would never come back. It had been six years and he refused to give up. Hopefully, something good could come out of this damn possession thing, though the Sheriff flinched at his attempt to lighten his mood.

“So, who exactly did you call?” Hale was stood near to Stiles, their bond stopping him from leaving even as the younger boy tried to hurt him any way he could (though the duct tape meant he was safe from scathing remarks, at least for now), his voice was closed off and he had obviously been listening to the conversation.

Noah noticed that the rest of the pack was curled up around the living room other than Allison and Chris who had gone to meet a contact who hopefully had some information on the Nogitsune. Erica was practically curled up in Boyd’s lap, her pale skin standing out against his darker colour, his arm wrapped around her waist and Noah was sure he had been nuzzling at her neck before he entered.

Isaac was pressed against them, keeping contact with both but his focus was on Scott who seemed to be lost staring at Stiles, Isaac seemed to be trying to pull him back into focus, but he was lost in his thoughts. Cora was sat on the floor cuddled with Malia and Kira, they were leaning back against the legs of the others, dozing in a light sleep. Parish and Lydia were in the other armchair, and the Sheriff made a mental note to speak to the young deputy about the young girl's age later (he’d already had the same conversation a few times with Derek since he was dating his underage son). Melissa was upstairs in his bed, she’d just come off an eighteen-hour shift at the hospital and needed her rest, and Peter was god knows where.

“Okay, I guess the ruse is up kiddo.” Noah sighed in Stiles’ direction, settling himself into his armchair which was blessedly empty. “I’m not Stiles’ biological father,” He ripped the bandage off quickly, wanting the shock over and done with as soon as possible “Claudia was already pregnant when we met. But I loved her enough to put up with the child, and by the time she gave birth he was mine in all the ways that mattered.” The pack had reacted in shock at this, some of them rearing back, Scott’s face was a picture of betrayal, and Derek looked like he was about to bolt.

“His father, John Winchester, was a notorious hunter, hunting all supernatural beings in order to avenge his wife’s death” At this the pack shifted uncomfortably, suddenly unsure as to whether they could trust Stiles, but the Sheriff continued almost as though he couldn’t see them “ – so Claudia and I decided we were going to keep him as far away from Stiles as we could, but he had two sons who adored Stiles.”

“Wait – is he your ‘old military buddy’ who used to bring his kids to visit you?” Scott interrupted quotation marks and all.

“Yeah, not necessarily a lie since we both did serve in the military – though we were never friends. Sam and Dean got caught up in some bad shit about five years ago, and decided it would be safer to cut off all contact… and obviously when Stiles got messed up with all this” Noah waved his hands at the pack squished into his living room, “he didn’t want to risk your guys’ lives, so he stopped trying to contact them.”

His words were met with silence, they knew Stiles was dedicated to the pack, but to cut himself off from his family? Then again, the sheriff wanted to shout, when wasn’t the pack Stiles’ first (and often only) priority?

“That explains how he knew exactly what I was after I was bitten, and how to help…” Scott admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck a little guiltily.

“But... you knew all along? Why did he make a big deal about lying to you?” Derek asked, arms crossed across his chest, face carefully blank.

“He wanted to make the ruse as good as possible, and there was a lot that he did lie to me about – mainly because he knew I’d call Sam and Dean as soon as I realised, he was in danger.” The pack shifted uncomfortably again, and he rushed to add “Not for you guys necessarily but the Kanima and the Argents. I should have called them as soon as we realised Stiles was possessed but I didn’t want to break my promise to him.”

“On a scale of Allison Argent to Kate Argent which kind of hunters are the Winchesters?” Erica blurted, checking her nails to hide her spiking fear and anxiety. Obviously, it didn’t work when she was surrounded by werewolves and Boyd pressed more firmly against her to soothe her, Isaac grabbed her hand and held on tight.

“Hm.” The Sheriff made a considering noise, “John would have scored a definite Gerard Argent on the scale, and Dean was pretty much beaten into the same mindset when we last saw him…” He trailed off lost in thought for a second “but then Sam was always a lot more lenient, caused a lot of arguments with John because of his ‘bleeding heart’.

“John’s been dead about 5 years, so I guess you’re looking at two Chris Argents? When we get Stiles back he won’t let them hurt you either way – and they were wrapped so tightly around his fingers they’d do anything for him”

The pack relaxed marginally, but they were still on edge. They all were. Except for Stiles, he seemed to be happier than he had been in weeks, feeding off all the chaotic emotions in the room. They stayed like that until the sun rose, and then it was breakfast time, a phone call from Alison to say their contact was a bust but they were going to grab some herbs Deaton asked for before returning home.

After that the pack settled in for a day of research, trying to find any way of killing the Nogitsune without hurting Stiles. Every available surface was covered in old books taken from the Hale vaults and Deaton’s collection, along with the books Lydia had been ordering online, and whatever Stiles had managed to collect over the years.

It was around midnight when the Sheriff was about to make his way upstairs to bed. He double-checked the front door was locked, poured a few extra drops of Kanima venom down his son’s throat and was halfway up the stairs when he heard a familiar engine outside.

He was down the stairs in a flash, unlocking the door and flinging it open to be greeted with a welcome sight, the Impala gleamed, even in the dim light, exactly how he remembered it last time he saw the boys. He waited anxiously on the porch until the driver and passenger doors opened with a creak.

Dean got out first, looking exhausted, his normally perfectly styled hair was messy as though he’d been running his hands through it non-stop for the past couple of hours, which he probably had been. He still dressed exactly the same, layers of plaid, baggy jeans and a pair of logger style boots on his feet.

Sam stepped out of the other side, towering over the car, he had grown about 3 inches since Noha had seen him last – and that was just his hair! Noah huffed a laugh at his own little joke before making his way to greet the boys. He pulled them both into a tight hug, one both boys tensed though before settling and hugging him back.

As soon as he’d let go of Dean the man had attempted to storm inside, Noah stopped him with a hand to the chest. “Before you go in, I need to tell you some things, things you may not like but I need you to promise to listen to me.” Dean crossed his arms, mouth falling into a frown, but he quirked an eyebrow to show that he was listening.

“Around a year ago Stiles and his friend Scott snuck out into the woods in the middle of the night to try and find a dead body –“ He was cut off by Dean’s exasperated sigh and a mumble of ‘fucking kid’ which caused him to smile despite the tense subject. “Scott was bitten by a crazed alpha werewolf that night.”

“And let me guess, Stiles ever the loyal friend refused to do the smart thing and walk away but just threw himself into the situation?” Dean asked while Sam attempted to stifle a laugh at his older brother’s reaction – his overprotective brother routine was funny so long as it wasn’t aimed at him.

“Got it in one.” The sheriff allowed, “Cut forward to now and he’s a member of a fully-fledged pack, complete with werewolves, a kitsune, a banshee and a hell hound.” He watched with surprise as Dean’s face paled and he took a step back towards the car before steeling himself.

“I believe he’s talking about a different type of hell hound than you are used to.” Noah was so busy watching Dean’s reaction that he didn’t even notice the back driver side door open and another man step out. The man was an inch or two shorter than Dean, with a head of messy hair and bright blue eyes, and was he wearing a trench coat? “This one has no affiliation with hell at all but helps keep the supernatural a secret from humanity.”

Dean relaxed as soon as the other man began speaking, his hand searching the other man’s shoulder for a second before dropping away. “Thanks, Cas.”

The sheriff shook off the weird reaction before asking the most important question, “If we let you inside, can we be sure no harm will come to the pack from you? Stiles would kill me if I let you hurt them – or them hurt you.”

Instead of answering the question Sam stepped back and opened the door behind where he was. A young man no older than 18 stepped out, blonde hair standing out since all the other men had dark hair, and his youthful expression of hope didn’t seem natural at this time either.

“Cas is an Angel of the Lord, an actual real-life angel.” Sam eventually said in answer, “And Jack here? Is the son of Lucifer himself. We’re not our father, and we are not the men you used to know. We save lives, and hunt those who deserve it”

“We won’t hurt Stiles’ pack unless they give us a reason to. Now where the hell is my little brother?” Dean demanded, and really, what could the Sheriff do but let them in?


	3. Form and Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Unbeta'd*

“Huh, guess you weren’t kidding about the pack,” Dean commented, coming to a stop at the living room door, feeling the eyes of eleven creatures staring at him. “Was kind of expecting like 4 or 5 teenagers.”

“What, you haven’t met a werewolf pack before?” Commented a beautiful redhead perched regally on the knee of an older man in a deputy uniform, her hair perfectly styled despite the late hour. Dean immediately felt underdressed in his current outfit. This was the ‘amazing, beautiful, everything-a-woman-should-be’ Lydia Martin Stiles was always going on about.

“Of course, we have,” He snarked back, knowing what she really meant he added with a glance at Sam behind him, “Garth’s pack is much smaller than this one isn’t it?”

“It was by the time we were done with it.” Sam agreed, nodding along, a hint of a smile working upon his lips.

“You’re just going to brag about killing werewolves in a room… full of werewolves?” The man under Lydia spoke, a disbelieving look on his face.

“We’re not bragging, but a cautionary tale never hurt anyone.” Sam conceded, prodding at Dean’s back so they could enter the room properly, the Sheriff shot them a confused look before settling back in his armchair – he needed to see how this would play out.

“Garth was a friend, a hunter, he got turned into a werewolf by an alpha of a pack after he had been found hurt around that area.” Dean supplied, leaning against a wall trying to look uninterested, but his gaze lingered on a tall man who seemed to be the epitome of ‘tall dark and handsome’, a dark leather jacket over a green Henley despite the heat. He’s standing in the middle of the room as though he was blocking something from view on purpose.

“Obviously we went to investigate when he went radio silent.” Sam continued, “and uncovered that half of the pack he had joined had made some Ragnarök pact”

“That actually exists?” a girl with long dark hair asked from her place on the floor snuggled between two other girls. “I heard about it in South America, but I didn’t think it was real.”

“Oh, it was, they were going to kill their alpha and the ‘weak’ pack members before biting every human they came across, creating a master race, I guess. After buttering us up with some pie, they locked Garth and his mate… is that the right word?” Dean asked and when Sam nodded at him, he continued “and Sammy here in the basement ready to kill them all.”

“But Dean here, and the reverend, uh Alpha, took care of the problem. We still keep in contact with them, the survivors, no harm came to those who didn’t deserve it.”

“Hell, Garth asked us to be godfathers to his litter of pups – his words not ours.” Dean hastened to add when he saw the glares he was getting. “And now that the thinly veiled threats are over and done with, I’m going to repeat myself, where the hell is my little brother?”

The man in the middle of the room visibly hesitated before stepping to one side revealing Stiles in the chair. He was tied down, but the ropes seemed to be doing nothing, he hadn’t moved even an inch. His face was haggard and drawn, but his eyes were full of bad intentions and he seemed to be enjoying everything that was going on, eyes lighting up as they lingered on the brothers.

“Oh Stiles,” Dean whispered, moving closer so he could touch his cheek, ignoring the growl that came from behind him. “Possessed then. Do we know by who?”

“It’s a Nogitsune.” The Sheriff answered, and he seemed to be biting back tears.

“It’s an ancient Japanese demon, a twisted Kitsune,” another young girl replied, looking ashamed for some reason.

“Okay, we can work with that.” Dean nodded, portraying confidence he didn’t really feel. “Cas, tell me Nogitsune’s – or however you say it – come from the same place as all demons?”

“Unfortunately, they aren’t real demons, have no connection with hell and therefore Crowley cannot simply order them to return,” Cas spoke as he always did, matter of fact and with very little emotion in it, but his eyes were wide with worry.

“So how do we get rid of it?” Sam asked, tense and angry watching his brothers interact.

“I could get him out like I did Michael.” Jack moved forward intently, his eyes glowing in anticipation of the magic he was about to wield.

“Woah, slow down bucko.” Dean stopped him with a hand to his chest. “Let’s save that as a last resort.”

“What? Why?!” Jack sputtered.

“Because we don’t want Stiles getting hurt here – we don’t know whether the Nogitsune works the same as Archangels – and we don’t know if Rowena survived because she’s a few centuries old and a witch,” Sam explained, dropping his hands onto Jack’s shoulders to try and soothe him.

“It’s not that they don’t trust you, Jack,” Cas assured, “It’s just that they don’t want you or Stiles being hurt by this.”

“Okay, so we have a plan B. any sign of a plan A?” The leather jacket man asked, his voice a growl and when Dean lifted his gaze to his he was greeted by piercing red eyes.

“We talk to Stiles.” Dean decided aloud, after glaring suspiciously at the alpha in front of him.

“He’s possessed if you hadn’t noticed.” Spat a blonde who was perched in the lap of a man who was built like a tank.

“Well duh.” Dean rolled his eyes, at the girl before tilting his head to his family “But you guys talked to me while I was possessed, could we just bring the equipment here?”

“Wait, you were possessed?” The Sheriff interrupted, waving a hand around as though to clear the air.

“Uh-huh, I only got possessed once though.” Dean shot a shit-eating grin at Sam.

“It’s your fault Gadreel possessed me!” Sam hissed, and Dean looked away guiltily.

“Yeah, but Crowley wasn’t my fault… Okay, he kind of was because he had to kick Gadreel out. But Meg wasn’t me! She was your girlfriend!” Dean got his groove back and continued to tease his brother trying to clear the resounding tension from the room.

“And I guess we both got possessed by Archangels so we both lose that round” Sam hummed thoughtfully understanding why his brother was teasing him in such a way.

“Archangels?” The huge man spoke, his face contemplative – well what could be seen through his girlfriend’s hair anyway.

“Uh-huh – word of warning to you all, angels are dicks you can’t trust any of them,” Dean commented, and Cas coughed twice, hiding it politely behind his hand as he had seen several humans doing. “Uh all angels are dicks and you can’t trust any of them other than Cas here.” He amended.

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas stared at Dean a little too long, the way he always had.

“Yeah, uh sure. No problem Cas.” Dean stumbled over his words and heard a scoff coming from Stiles’ body. Without thinking he reached out and clipped him on the back of the head. Another growl came from the leather jacket man and Dean eyed him suspiciously before turning to Sam.

“So anyway, when Michael had me trapped in that weird-ass world – I mean Pamela was hot but not exactly who I pictured spending my life with…”

“She was always more interested in me anyway.” Sam teased his brother.

“Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night Dumbledork” Dean pulled a mocking face, lips pursed, and eyebrows raised, “but anyway, you guys used the shit at the bunker to convince me to fight back and I ended up locking him away.”

“And all we would have to do is convince Stiles to do that and we’d have him back!” Sam caught on to where Dean’s train of thoughts were heading.

“Uh-huh, though do you remember when dad was worried that Stiles was never 100% human?” When Sam’s only response was to shake his head and look confused Dean continued “Oh apparently there was something in Claudia’s line a few generations back. A specific brand of magic, most people never knew they had it, but dad worried anyway.”

“Deaton said Stiles had a spark, but he never explained what it meant.” A curly-haired kid, filled with an innocence and pure power that usually never came together, spoke excitedly.

“Yeah that’s probably what it is, dad said it hardly ever breaks through and if it does it’s very weak until it’s been trained. But what I was trying to point out is that if we could get him to tap into it he could probably kick the Nogitsune out altogether, rather than suffer through having someone-“ He cut himself off eyes clenching shut as he remembered the relentless banging in his mind.

“Having someone trying to break out all the time.” Sam supplied, a guilty look flaring in his eyes.

“I don’t ever want him living through anything like that if I can help it” Dean admitted, and he was about to shake himself out of his emotional reverie when the Sheriff cleared his throat.

“I’m going to need an explanation, boys.” The sheriff ordered, wincing when Dean immediately clammed up, his relaxed posture snapping straight, and the Sheriff once again cursed John Winchester.

Dean stumbled over a response, suddenly a terrified kid again and Cas stepped in, “A while ago we had a fight with my brother Michael since he wanted to end the world.” The pack seemed unsure what to do with Cas’ matter of fact speaking but they didn’t interrupt so he continued. “We weakened him to a point where he would no longer be a threat, but that was a mistake since Lucifer then came into the picture, and the only one powerful enough to stop him would be Michael himself.”

“I fell for his bullshit and let him possess me – “ Dean started, his self-loathing shining through but no one seemed to pay it any attention before the curly-haired puppy-like kid wearing a scarf spoke:

“So, wait, Stiles allowed himself to be possessed?”

“What? No!” Dean was kind of offended not sure where the kid got that idea from.

“Angels need permission to enter a body, demons can come and go as they please, but there is a tattoo that wards against most forms of possession.” Sam rushed to answer, understanding where the kid had gotten confused. He reached up and unbuttoned a few of the buttons on his shirt pulling it aside until his tattoo was on show, Jack copied and nudged Dean until he unhappily followed suit.

“Michael promised Dean he would possess him only long enough to kill Lucifer and then he would leave.” Cas continued as though he hadn’t been interrupted, only to be interrupted again.

“But obviously Angels are dicks, so he went against his promise as soon as he could, and started planning the apocalypse while wearing Dean’s face,” Sam explained, his arms crossing and a vulnerable look crossing his face as he remembered losing his brother.

“So, what you’re saying is that we’re lucky Stiles’ demon is only interested in small scale stuff?” Leather jacket man growled, clearly not happy with what was going on.

“What we’re saying is that we’ve dealt with worse, we now have an acceptable plan A, and we’re going to save our little brother,” Sam spoke, raising his eyebrow challengingly at the man.

“Yeah, Cas and Jack are going to be dolls and go get the equipment we need, it will work here, won’t it? It won’t short the power or anything?” Dean tilted his head, realising that there was probably a reason the bunker had two backup generators.

“Should be fine,” Sam confirmed after a few moments of running the numbers in his mind. “And if it isn’t, we take this show on the road.”

Cas spent a second just staring at Dean, telling him everything he couldn’t say with his words with his eyes before Jack teleported them out of there.

“Now that the important stuff is out of the way, I need your guys’ names because I cannot keep referring to you as Leather-Jacket-Grumpy-ass, etc,” Dean smirked when he managed to get another growl out of said leather-jacket man, which had been his attention. “And of course, I’m going to need the full story to how Stiles finally,” He shared a look with Sam, and they rolled their eyes at the same time “finally, got the goddess that is Lydia Martin to slide off the pedestal he set her on and give him the time of day”


	4. The Hunter Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really don't like this but it's already like 2 days late so here it is.
> 
> Any comments/suggestions/improvements are always welcome <3

“I don’t know, I think it was all the supernatural shit made me realise how intelligent he is you know? But once he stopped being obsessed with me, something clicked, and it’s like I knew we could be friends then.” Lydia explained uncomfortably, and Parrish lifted his arm wrapping it around her waist to ground her.

“I can’t believe he just… stopped being obsessed with you.” Sam commented, rubbing the back of his neck, “then again it has been like 6 years since we saw him last so… Anything is possible, I guess.”

“Nah, he was deep into that creepy obsession, I tried to talk him out of it, it didn’t work – it’s hard to believe he’d just have a one-eighty for no reason,” Dean argued, leaning back against the dining chair that had been brought into the living room for them to sit on once the introductions were underway. “Who caught his attention?”

No one answered but Dean watched as they all tried to keep their gazes on the floor to avoid giving anything away. But every one of their eyes flickered to Derek Hale, Alpha werewolf, Mr Wears-A-Leather-Jacket-And-Growls-A-Lot.

“Always knew he’d grow up like you,” Dean commented with a laugh, nudging Sam before pulling a gun out of his boot and just holding it while staring at Derek.

“What exactly are you trying to insinuate?” Sam asked, his gaze also locked on Derek after catching the same motions that had tipped Dean off.

“Hey, all I’m saying is; I never slept with a werewolf – so he didn’t get it from me.” Dean sent Derek another glare, before turning an innocent gaze onto his brother and polishing his gun on the flannel he was wearing.

“That you know of.” Cora drawled, “We’re not all fangs and claws all the time you know”

Dean was lost in thought for a few seconds, leafing his way through all the women he remembered sleeping with, and the few guys he had managed sneaky nights without his family finding out about, none of them had shown signs of being werewolves, but then that was entirely Cora’s point. In the end, he just licked his lips before looking at her with a small smile, “You are my favourite Hale.”

“You, however, are treading an awfully thin line around my underage, very human brother. I’d threaten you, but I assume the Sheriff has already done that, and I wouldn’t want to overstep my boundaries. But, as the eldest brother I have certain responsibilities, you know. And while the Sheriff is very capable, I’ll hurt you in ways you can’t even imagine if you hurt him.”

He stood then, signifying that that was the end of that, tucking his gun into his boot and moving to stand in front of the Nogitsune. He moved to touch the tape on his mouth and there was a cacophony of warning from behind him, “I wouldn’t do that, son.” The Sheriff’s voice broke through the mess, “The things he says – You don’t want to do that.”

“I need to speak to the thing that was brave or foolish enough to possess a Winchester, now he may not have known he was a Winchester in the first place, but he definitely did after a while – and not even the King of Hell himself would attempt to pull this off.” Dean didn’t take his eyes off the thing in front of him.

At first glance, it was easy to mistake it for his brother, albeit a very tired version of his brother. But this close it didn’t even look the same. His brother had always had trouble staying still, Dean doesn’t even think Kanima venom would work completely on his brother, he always had this aura of movement; his eyes and his mouth would always move. The Nogitsune was still, so still it was eerie given the face it was wearing. Stiles’ eyes were always filled with mischief and happiness (other than in his darkest moments where they would darken to a dull brown) but right now all you could see in their depths was cruelty and joy at said cruelty.

“Dean, are you sure you want to see Stiles this way?” Sam spoke up, still sat in his seat, eyes snapping from one brother to the other in quick motions.

“That’s the thing, it’s not Stiles. I need to know who it is.” Dean ripped the tape off before anyone could stop him and almost immediately wished he hadn’t as the thing’s eyes lit up.

“You know, after everything Alistair said I expected you to be more…” The Nogitsune trailed off, but his gaze lingered lecherously on Dean who flinched at the reminder. “I can see what he meant about your lips though – I can only imagine what you’d look like on your knees.” Dean’s hand shot out against his own volition, the Nogitsune’s head shot backwards, chair tilting precariously before settling.

Dean tried to take a few breaths to calm down but there wasn’t enough air in the room, which was weird, no one else seemed to be struggling for breath. He realised, almost as though his emotions were coming to him from the outside, as though he was watching someone else experience them that he was panicking.

Before he could slip into panicking too much there was a hand on his back, a familiar hand, he glanced up into Cas’ eyes and felt himself relax, getting lost in the swirling blues as he always did. After a few seconds, he wrenched his eyes away glad that his breathing was back to normal.

He refused to look at anyone in the room and instead reached out and tilted Stiles’ head inspecting the bruise that was already appearing on his cheek and the small cut that had appeared within.

“Alright, asshat.” Dean started, trying to regain control of the situation. “Why Stiles?”

“There’s a darkness in him, the same one that’s in you. It called me to him.” The Nogitsune hissed. “Ask his daddy.”

Dean turned his glare onto the Sheriff who looked broken at the realisation this could be his fault.

“There was a ritual he did to save our lives, Deaton said it would leave a darkness in him. I didn’t know until after” The Sheriff assured, hands shooting up into the universal sign of innocence.

“Classic Winchester,” Jack commented, his voice too excited for the tense atmosphere. But he was probably just adding it to his ‘What Would the Winchesters Do’ database.

“What do you mean a darkness we share?” Dean asked, his brows crinkled with confusion.

“You can act like the good guy all you like. But you’re just like me. Torturing whoever gets put in front of you and enjoy it – no matter how many lives you save you will never make up for those you hurt.” The Nogitsune was grinning now, a manic, slightly terrifying grin. Too many teeth for it to be seen as anything other than threatening.

But Dean refused to be threatened; “Did anyone ever tell you about what happened to Alistair?” Dean asked, spinning his chair around and straddling it in front of the demon wearing his brothers face, “I enjoyed torturing him the most you know, he made the best noises as I poured Holy water down his throat, The scream he made when I injected it into his eye is something that I don’t ever want to forget.” At this he looked up at Derek, missing the flash of fear in the Nogitsune’s eyes but basking in the terror in Derek’s. The poor man was suddenly white as a sheet but trying to stay strong in front of his pack.

“Threatening me won’t work when I’m wearing baby bro’s face. Everyone knows Dean Winchester’s weaknesses” the thing hissed again, his eyes resting on Sam almost pleadingly and Dean snapped his attention back to it;

“But, haven’t you been listening? You won’t be wearing baby bro’s face for long, and then… well everyone should also know what happens to those who hurt or threaten my family.” Dean saw it this time, the flash of fear in his eyes, and it brought a grin to his own face; menacing, too many teeth – after all, he too had spent time in Hell.

“Okay, I feel like I need an explanation, Again.” The Sheriff demanded, he looked distraught at his son and the man he considered a son spitting such hateful words at each other. “I’ve missed too much of your lives.”

“I need a drink, before all of that.” Dean waved his hand at the Sheriff, indicating the conversation that was apparently imminent. He stood and made his way to the Sheriff’s ‘secret’ alcohol stash, pulling a half-empty bottle of whiskey and drinking nearly the whole lot in one.

“Yellow eyes caught up with us, put me in some kind of tournament where the winner gets to be possessed by Lucifer. I died and Dean sold his soul to bring me back.” Sam started when it became clear Dean wasn’t going to.

“I really Don’t recommend that, by the way,” Dean interjected, a wry smile on his face.

“A year later he’s in Hell, being tortured day in and day out by Alistair until after 30 years, an exceptionally long time by all accounts, he decided he’d had enough and agreed to start torturing people instead.” Castiel gives the cliff notes, avoiding all the worst parts of the story and watching as Dean finished the rest of the bottle before looking at the Sheriff again.

“Dean is an exceptional torturer,” Cas added nodding in assent, “So good that Heaven called on him to torture Alistair when we needed information.”

“Time passes differently in Hell,” Sam added to try and clear the confused look from everyone’s faces. “Only 3 months passed up here”

“Holy shit, boys.” The Sheriff spoke up eventually, “I guess I see why you guys cut us out so viciously now.”

“This was not something we wanted Stiles caught up in at all. The demons and angels were vicious – Zachariah stole my lungs once!” Sam told the Sheriff since Dean was slipping into himself. Whenever Alistair or his stay in hell was brought up, he closed up, he usually pulled himself out of it with a few bottles of alcohol and a long drive in his baby – neither of which were acceptable to do right now – he’d drunk too much already.

Dean slipped further and further into himself, ignoring the sounds of the pack around him, ignoring his brother telling the tale of Zachariah and the stage four stomach cancer / lung theft. The only thing that stopped him disappearing completely was Cas’ soothing presence. The angel knew he couldn’t do anything physical in front of all these people –Dean wasn’t ready for that yet, but he had a little grace left in him, and he used that to grip onto Dean’s hand tightly.

Dean was startled out of his spiral when the door was flung open and a young girl flounced in. Her dark hair fell around her shoulders in tight, perfect ringlets, accenting her flawless pale skin, she was dressed in fighting gear, and Dean could clearly see weapons stashed throughout her clothes. He stared up at her from his seat (and why didn’t he remember sitting down?!), she looked awfully familiar.

Her intelligent gaze danced around the room, but she startled when her eyes landed on Dean, a big innocent smile taking over her face as she took him in. “Dean?!” She asked excitedly, and Dean felt guilty about not recognising her, she was much too young to be someone he had slept with, he knew that much.

A man stepped in behind her, stomping his boots on the way in out of habit. This man he did recognise, Chris Argent, Dean’s gaze flitted from Chris to the girl before a smile took over his own face, “Ally?” Her dejected look melted back into a smile and he barely had time to stand before she was throwing herself at him. He caught her in a tight hug, lifting her off the floor the way he always used to – though it was quite a lot harder than it used to be.

“I guess they finally let you in on the family secret, huh?” He asked after a few seconds, “Either that or you are incredibly happy to see me.” He laughed, poking at the knife that was tucked into her waistband and was poking him in the stomach.

She stepped back and smacked him on the arm, “Ew, gross!” She whined, before hitting him again, “You knew? That whole time and you didn’t say anything?”

“Wasn’t my place.” He shrugged, rubbing his hand over the place she had hit.

“So, you’re a hunter too?” She asked, eyes flitting from him to her father accusingly.

“Uh-huh” He nodded, “Got inducted into the club in around 1983”

“You were what, four then?” Alison asked, running the maths. She was intelligent enough to dance away from that topic and changed to something slightly easier. “What are you doing here?”

Dean heard the undercurrent of ‘Can we trust you with this?’ and decided to try and answer both questions in one “Stiles is my youngest brother, we heard he needed our help – there’s nowhere we’d rather be.”

“Sorry,” Sam interrupted, waving a hand awkwardly to bring attention to himself, “but how do y’all know each other?”

“Uh… Ally this is my brother Sam.” Dean answered giving himself a few seconds to think before he knew he had to reply. He wasn’t expecting her face to darken and her happy smile to melt into a deep glare. “You okay there?”

“It was all his fault!” She exclaimed, turning her back on Sam to look into Dean’s eyes. “Everything your father did; him kicking you out to live with us – all of it was his fault!”

“It wasn’t” Dean assured, shooting an apologetic look at Sam over her shoulder. “My father was a grown ass man who made his decisions himself – and Sam’s biggest crime was wanting to go to school”

“People like us have a responsibility. You don’t walk away from that!” She huffed, arms crossing over her chest, reminding Dean of the tantrums she used to throw when her dad refused to let her go with him on jobs.

Dean shot her a chastising look, the same one he did when she threw said tantrums as a child, but surprisingly it didn’t work the way it used to. Then again, he used to have to offer ice-cream for her to stop being upset that she wasn’t invited. What did get her out of her mood was Scott reaching up and pulling her down onto his lap. She made a contented sound and burrowed her way between him and Isaac.

“What does she mean kicking you out?” Sam and the Sheriff asked at the same time, their brows furrowed in similar frowns which Dean didn’t notice, his gaze flicking between Alison and her father who merely shrugged in a ‘what can you do?’ manner.

“Well…” Dean trailed off trying to find a way to explain without painting his dad in a bad light or making himself seem pathetic. “Dad only really kept me around to look after you, and when I’d failed at that he didn’t really need me around anymore” he made sure to add a shrug at the end to show he didn’t care.

“So, he stayed with us for a while, to gain some real hunting experience before he went off on his own.” Chris jumped in, steering away from another touchy subject.

“Though how he got any experience when he just spent all his time taking me to the park and helping me with my homework I’ll never know.” Alison laughed, but Dean could tell she was grateful and not mocking.

“No wonder daddy didn’t want you around, he probably wanted to be surrounded by real men and not a woman with a penis – you do have one of those don’t you?” The Nogitsune mocked, but it was grasping at straws at this point.

“Dude, you already used your trump card – you played it too early. You ain’t got nothing that can hurt me now.” He flicked the thing’s nose to prove his point, laughing when it gnashed its teeth in his direction.

Dean’s brow furrowed and he turned back to look at Alison, his gaze flitting from her to the werewolves she was snuggling with. “Your uh… your sister isn’t here is she?” He directed his question at Chris.

“She’s dead,” Chris informed, his voice revealing no emotion, it was as though he was discussing the weather of a country he never intended to visit.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sam spoke up but seemed to realise it was probably the wrong thing to say when suddenly the whole pack was glaring at him – Alison and Chris included.

Dean let out a breath in a rush “Honestly… that’s such a relief.”

“Dean!” Sam chastised, not sure where everyone stood but he knew his brother was being rude.

“No, you never met her. You don’t get to make a comment. She was a fucking nightmare” He shot an apologetic glance at Alison, remembering how she used to idolise her aunt, but was taken aback by her response – there was no anger, or loss or anything. “Besides, she would’ve just thrown a grenade through the window and cut her losses – anything to kill a werewolf.”

He waited a second before continuing with a sly grin at Alison “Besides, she would never have approved of all that” He waved his hand indicating Alison and her wolves.

Alison looked confused all of a sudden, “But... Weren’t you guys dating? I’m sure I remember that. You took me on days out together and went on dates and... other stuff.”

“Uh… Your aunt was not the kind of woman who took rejection well?” It came out as a question, not wanting to upset her so soon after reconnecting.

“God. I don’t think I’m ever going to be done apologising for the shit Kate pulled.” Chris spoke the apology and regret clear on his face.

“Hey man, no worries – your sister was a psycho, but she was still your sister and it’s easy to be tricked by those you love most.” Dean knew this from experience, him and Sam had pulled a fair amount of shit on each other over the years. Chris seemed to sag under the weight of his relief at the forgiveness.

“So, what, she forced you to be with her?” Alison asked, pale and a little green around the gills. “I remember the tantrum she threw when you left. I was terrified, and I didn’t understand why you’d gone without saying goodbye of course. But there wasn’t a dish left in the kitchen when she was done.”

“She didn’t really give me much of a choice, Kiddo.” While Dean didn’t verbalise his apology, Alison heard it none the less. “She shot me you know, right through the shoulder, wolfsbane bullet and all. Said since I cared so much about the dogs maybe I should be put down like one.” He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but notice how heavy the air in the room had become. The tension was palpable.

“I can’t believe I ever thought she was a… well even a human being. She’s a monster – what did you do?” Alison’s gaze flickered to Derek, almost as though she was apologising to him for the topic of conversation.

“I broke it off. Threatened to kill her myself actually.” Dean’s eyes narrowed as he tried to remember the exact details of the end of his and Kate’s relationship. He knew the big stuff of course, but the little details escaped him after all these years. “She came home one night, smelling of smoke and burning flesh and she was so horny;

“Kept bragging about tricking some young werewolf into letting her in and then burning his entire pack around him. When I asked what they’d done to deserve it – what rule of the code they had broken. Do you know what she told me? She said that breeding was justification enough.

“There were kids in that house! And while I may have been under my father's thumb back then – even I knew this was wrong.“ he had been so caught up in the tale he had failed to notice how the tension in the room had changed again.

Derek appeared to be on the brink of shifting, face phasing from human to beta and back uncontrollably. Blood pooled on the floor as he dug his claws in to regain control. He seemed to be looking to Stiles to help, but the smug grin on his face was only making things worse. In the end, Cas stepped over and laid a hand on his shoulder causing the wolf to crumble to the floor where his sister wrapped herself around him.

He had stopped phasing but the pain in his eyes was enough for Dean to see what he had done with his carelessness. “Oh man… I am so sorry. I never would have – Shit, I’m sorry.”

“What? What’s going on?” Jack asked, losing his soul had taken his ability to read emotional situations.

“The family Dean was talking about?” Sam began explaining. “Must have been the Hale’s, Derek and Cora’s family.” Realisation dawned on Jack, but it was clear he didn’t really understand the emotion in the room.

“I don’t know if it brings you peace, but they made it to heaven, all those lost in the fire and… Laura too. When wolves get to heaven, they get a joint room, wolves need to be together – they’re together, they’re happy, and they’re waiting for you to join them in due time.” Cas assured and Derek and Cora seemed to falter before a wall shot up in both their eyes. Dean knew it was time to change the subject. But before he could, Cas uttered a kicker, “They forgive you too.”

That appeared to be all that Derek could take, he shot the Sheriff an apologetic look and practically flew from the house, leaving Cora curled up on the floor. It wasn’t long before her pack converged on the floor around her though.

“Aw poor little wolves.” The thing sing-songed “the one who killed his family just to get his dick wet and the one no one cared was alive.”

“who took his tape off?” The sheriff asked with a broken smile trying to ease the tension.

“That would be me, sorry.” Dean laughed, following the Sheriff’s lead. “Is this where you go on a tangent to try and find something to upset us all?” he challenged the nogitsune.

“Hey, you and Derek have a lot in common that’s all I’m saying.” If the thing had been able to move his arms they would be held at the common sign for innocence, Dean is certain.

“If you’re talking about letting a girl trick you with her body, you’re looking at the wrong Winchester. Sam’s the one caused the apocalypse because a pretty girl with nice cleavage told him to.”

“Dude, it wasn’t like that at all! I never even noticed her cleavage.” Sam sniffed in faux outrage, crossing his arms and trying to look haughty.

“Yes, we all know it was her blood Sam was after, not her breasts,” Cas said at a deadpan causing Sam and Dean to crack up and effectively killing the tense atmosphere.


	5. Who We Are

It took a few hours for Sam to set up the equipment, it would’ve taken longer but the pack were on edge and kept asking questions and interfering in an attempt to help. Dean knew that his best bet was to make himself scarce and so he grabbed his tools from the boot of the Impala and began taking the engine of Stiles’ jeep apart. There was a lot of swearing, an engine like this needed love and care – not duct tape and hope.

He had just finished a phone call with the man who now ran Singer’s Auto who had agreed to send the parts he needed as soon as he could find them in the vast array of cars that Bobby had let go unmanaged when Derek appeared beside him. He was pleased with himself that he didn’t jump.

The werewolf didn’t say anything, so Dean kept silent too, working on putting the engine back together as well as he could.

“He loved that jeep.” Derek finally murmured, staring at Dean’s hands which were deep inside the car.

“Loves” Dean corrected with a glare. “He loves this jeep.” He was about to scold the man some more, but Derek’s head snapped to the side.

“They’re ready.” He repeated what he had obviously heard inside. “Are you sure you can do this?”

“I wouldn’t risk his life if I wasn’t certain.” Dean shouldered his way past the werewolf, a heavy weight settling on him. He took in the metal contraption wrapped around Stiles’ neck and head leaving absolutely no way for him to move.

At Dean’s questioning glance Sam answered, “If the connection is severed incorrectly, it could be really dangerous. So, we took measures.”

Dean nodding, dropping himself into the seat opposite his youngest brother analysing the dead eyes and the wires attached at seemingly random intervals but Dean knew the placement was important somehow.

Sam was just about to connect the wires when the Sheriff interrupted; “Woah! Woah, you said dangerous, how?”

“Not to Stiles,” Sam assured the man and the pack

“If it tears the connection in a dodgy way I’ll end up trapped in there.” He tilted his head to Stiles, indicating he’d be trapped in his mind.

“But the likelihood of that happening is incredibly slim,” Sam added, sticking several different coloured wires onto Dean’s head.

“And can we talk about why this needs to be you? He has a stronger connection to Derek who is both his Alpha and his Mate.” Lydia interrupted, stopping Sam before he could turn the machine on.

“Because I am the only person in this room who has done this before and knows what he needs to do?” Dean replied exasperated, he was ready to get his brother back now. “Satisfied?” when she merely rolled her eyes at him, he turned his gaze to Cas’ a million words passing in the few seconds of silence they had before Sam spoke.

“Also, you did something similar for mom last year didn’t you?”

“Yeah, when Ketch turned her emotions off. Popped in, said some mean things, told her I loved her and brought her back.” Dean rushed through an explanation, snapping his eyes away from Cas’.

“Your mom?” The Sheriff questioned, suspicion arising in his eyes. Sheriff mode turned up to level 10.

“It’s a long story.” Sam started, his gaze flickering to Jack who had started to shut down at the sound of Mary’s name. The sheriff crossed his arms over his chest in a clear signal that he was not ever going to let this go.

“Short version, I did a favour for a Divine being, she was grateful – gave me what I wanted most. Which was apparently my mom” Dean explained, laughing at himself a little with a half shrug.

“Then I killed her,” Jack added, voice monotone. The reactions from the pack were instantaneous; half of them swivelled their heads from Dean to Sam and to Jack before repeating. The others seemed too shocked to react at all.

“Accidentally, of course,” Cas added shooting Jack a quick glare, looking like a dad whose kid is being stupid in public - which, let's be real is exactly what's happening.

“How did you even meet a Divine Being?” The Sheriff asked, deciding that he didn’t want to touch Mary’s second death with a 10-foot pole.

“Uh, I got a funky tattoo from the First Murderer, Cain, so that I could kill the Knight of Hell and she was kinda trapped inside? So, when Sam got rid of the tattoo to stop me going dark side it released her.” Dean told them, though his body language allowed them all to see how unimpressed he was by the whole conversation.

“Man, I thought Beacon Hills was weird. What the fuck?” Scott blurted, only to blush bright red when the Sheriff cleared his throat. “Sorry, Sir”

“No, you were right. What the fuck?” Boyd spoke, his voice a deep rumble, and it was then that Dean realised he hadn’t spoken since they’d been here.

“You get used to it,” Sam laughed, deciding that the conversation was over, he and Dean shared a second of eye contact before he heard the whirring of the machine and then it all went dark.

Sam leapt forward to catch Dean’s head and lay it back on the back of the chair before he could hurt himself, and the pack settled in for a long night. Dean, however, opened his eyes again in a darkened forest.

There was no sound here, everything was silent, it was eerie. He continued on nonetheless, following a pulling in his chest he knew lead to Stiles, despite not knowing how it worked.

He walked for seemingly hours, passing an abandoned husk of a house that was burnt near to ashes, he caught a glimpse of Derek watching him from the upstairs window and knew this was all that was left of the Hale house.

He shook his head and continued his march before he could get too bogged down in the pain radiating from the husk. He happened upon a scene playing out in front of him and his heart ached for the barely concealed fear and sadness in Stiles’ tone.

“So, all of this started with the bite?” He heard his brother’s voice, but the image of the scene was distorted by some kind of smoke.

“What if it’s like an infection? Like my body flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?” Scott answers, his voice full of genuine fear and an astounding amount of innocence.

“You know what I actually think I’ve heard of this. It’s a specific kind of infection.” Dean heard the pair come to a stop and assumed Scott was looking at his friend in shock. Dean’s head tilted, surely Stiles couldn’t have outed himself now – especially if Scott had no memory later on.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I think It’s called lycanthropy”

“What’s that? Is it bad?”

“Oh yeah, the worst. But only once a month.” Dean could hear the second Stiles decided to cover his true emotions with humour.

“Once a month?” Scott asked the confusion echoing through his question.

“Mmhmm. On the night of the full moon.” Stiles laughed; Dean could imagine him tilting his head back as he released a pathetic sounding howl.

The smoke surrounding the scene blocked the rest of it from view, and Dean shrugged before continuing to follow the tugging feeling in his chest. It wasn’t long after that that he happened upon a large stump, too big to be any ordinary tree, the entirety of his car would fit on the top comfortably – and his car wasn’t a small one.

On top of the tree sat his brother, looking as he had as a child, before Claudia had gotten ill and before Sam and Dean had cut ties with him. He looked happy, carefree, it made Dean’s heart hurt.

In front of him was a game, it looked similar to checkers or chess or something nerdy, but Dean couldn’t place it. Stiles was staring at the game, he reached out as though he was in a trance and moved a piece.

Dean watched for a few more seconds as he sat in perfect stillness before another piece moved itself. Before Stiles could make another move, Dean clambered up onto the stump inelegantly and grabbed his arm. “Stiles,” He said, trailing off as he struggled to form the words.

There was no reaction from Stiles, other than for him to move another piece, taking a piece of the board and placing it on the growing pile of pieces next to him. “Stiles? Stiles! Can you hear me?” Still, no reaction.

Dean lifted his other hand onto Stiles’ opposite arm and shook him, it did nothing other than make Stiles’ head flop dangerously on his shoulders. He thought back to the things he had said to his mom and knew he’d have to hurt Stiles, make him feel, bring him back. So he started talking:

“Your pack is out there, you know? Hurt, divided and terrified. They need you, we need you. Stiles you don’t get to hide yourself in here and leave us all. You **Do Not **get to let him win. You’re a Winchester. You fight to protect those you care about. This? This isn’t fighting.

“This is giving up. this is letting that monster win. He knows he’s safe in here, he knows that while he’s wearing your face we won’t hurt him. But we can only keep him trapped for so long. Unless you stop him, unless you fight with every single thing you have, he’s going to win. He’s going to use your body to hurt everyone you’ve ever cared about and then, when you can’t hurt anymore he’ll move on to his next victim and leave you broken in a burning building. Where everyone you’ve ever loved or cared about, or even had a conversation with has been torn apart.

“**You need to fight. **Right now, and it’s going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. But we need you to do this. Your dad needs you. Your pack. Derek, dude he’s a fucking shell without you. Don’t let the Nogitsune take away the person he loves. Don’t you think he’s lost enough?”

Dean had run out of things to say, but he could see the fight happening in Stiles’ eyes. He was coming back to himself, “Your mom is up there somewhere watching her baby be torn apart. She’ll be so disappointed if this is the way you go out. She fought her illness until she couldn’t fight it anymore, until her dying breath – she fought. She never gave up, and neither can you. Are you Claudia Stilinski’s son or not?”

“Dean?” Stiles’ head shot up so he could see Dean’s face. He shifted, moving jerkily as though his entire body had gone stiff due to inactivity.

“Hey, Little bro.” Dean shot him a smile he hoped was encouraging.

“What – you can’t be here!” Stiles sounded terrified, pushing on Dean’s hand that was still on his arm in rushed, harsh movements. “He’ll be back. He’ll hurt you. I’ll hurt you.”

“I’m not leaving,” Dean grunted, grabbing both of Stiles’ wrists and forcing him back into stillness. “I will never leave you again.” Stiles took a broken breath, and then another before he gave up trying to smother the sobs and just threw himself against Dean’s chest instead. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Dean isn’t sure how long he sat there rocking Stiles, running a hand through his hair and humming ‘Hey Jude’ under his breath, but he did know that by the time Stiles shifted away, wiping the tears from his face with a wry grin, that his ass had gone numb and his knees were aching where they had been bent.

“So, I need to fight. How? Because I’ve been trying. He’s too strong.”

“This is your mind. This is your playground no one is more powerful in here than you are. And I know you’ve been fighting him, you would never have allowed him to hurt anyone if you could’ve avoided it.”

“So how do I fight?” Stiles was getting agitated now, watching the forest as though he expected the Nogitsune to step through at any given moment.

“Did you know your grandad had magic? Not much but a spark, he never nurtured it, terrified danger would befall his family if he exposed this part of himself. But it was there. Now your mother didn’t inherit it in a traditional sense, but it was there; in the way her plants never died, she never missed a note while singing and when she really wanted something to happen, it had a way of becoming true.”

“And this helps me how?” Stiles was tugging at the sleeves of his bright red hoodie now, chewing on the drawstring and attempting to regulate his breathing.

Dean reached out and wrapped one of Stiles’ hands around his own wrist to ground him, he smiled when Stiles tightened his hold and placed his fingers over Dean’s pulse point. “Because, unlike everyone else who’s been possessed you can fight him off, you’ve been running with wolves for a while – that spark in you, you’ve been nurturing it for months without even realising its there. If you believe you’re stronger than him, and that you can beat him – really truly believe it – you’ll be able to fight him off.”

“I just to what? Tap my heels together and say, ‘there’s no place like home’ and I’ll be back?” Stiles laughed sardonically, rolling his eyes as though this was the hardest thing to believe.

“Believe Stiles, believe in me when I tell you this, believe in your mother and her abilities. Believe in your heritage and your magic. And believe in yourself” Dean encouraged, “But if you need to use stupid musical references to make that happen, you do you.” He laughed this time, rich and loud and it seemed to echo in the silence of the forest, startling Stiles.

“You really believe I can do this?”

“Kid, I’ve always believed you could do absolutely everything you put your mind to.”

Stiles looked at Dean as though he was hearing the one thing he’d needed to hear his entire life. Before scrunching up his eyes, Dean could hear him muttering a mantra under his breath something along the lines of ‘I do believe in fairies, I do, I do.’

Dean crossed his fingers and scrunched his own eyes shut too, bringing his belief in Stiles to the very fore-front of his him. He sucked in a breath when the pulling in his chest burned painfully before he was being sucked backwards.

When he opened his eyes he was in the living room of the Stilinski household, the eyes of everyone in the room on him.


	6. The Kids Are Alright

Dean hastened to rip the wires off his head, ignoring everyone as he surged forward on unsteady legs towards Stiles. He tried getting the contraption off his head, wanting him to wake up and be free, but his fingers weren’t working properly. In the end, Sam got the hint and took over while Cas lowered him back into his chair.

“How – How long was I out?” He asked he’d never felt this way before while doing this.

“It’s been two days Dean, neither of you has moved, Melissa had to put an IV drip in you both,” Cas explained, his voice deep and comforting despite the situation.

“Cas and I saved you from the Catheter!” Jack added, pulling a face at the idea.

“Thanks, Jack.” Dean rasped, flinching when a scary woman wearing scrubs shoved a pint glass of water in his hands.

“Drink.” She ordered, raising an eyebrow in a way Dean knew meant she wouldn’t be ignored on this topic. He rushed to comply, relaxing when the dry horrible feeling in his throat went away.

“What’s wrong? Why isn’t he waking up?” The Sheriff was pacing, fast jerky steps behind his son.

“I don’t know.” Dean gasped, after finishing the glass. “He pushed me out, He’s probably fighting the Nogitsune right now.”

“If this goes wrong –“ The Sheriff cut himself off before he could say something he regretted but the look he shot Dean was murderous.

“Come on kid, you got this.” Dean forced, a familiar fear surging within him. He stumbled forward again, his movement jarring against the fear-filled stillness in the room. He didn’t manage to catch himself this time and ended up on his knees in front of his brother. He pulled Stiles’ face until it was looking at him. “C’mon kiddo, fight for us. We need you.”

He was starting to get frantic, grabbing Stiles’ face tighter, in a hold that was becoming way too familiar to Dean. “Fight kiddo, I believe in you.”

It happened faster than Dean could see, one second Stiles’ eyes were closed in peaceful sleep and the next they were forced open along with his mouth as a dark cloud shot out of every orifice on his face. The stifled scream leaving Stiles’ mouth deafening in the otherwise silent room, and the screech of the Nogitsune was terrifying as it moved towards Dean, bouncing off the protection left by the protection sigil on his skin before Jack managed to trap it inside a bubble. The bubble constricted until the Nogitsune was nothing but a memory.

The scream cut off instantly, and the room was returned to silence once again. Everyone holding their breath. It was Stiles’ deep gasp as he woke that breathed life back into the room. “Dean” He whimpered and fell forward off the chair to be cradled by his brother. “You’re really here.”

“You’re an idiot.” Dean whispered back, “you should’ve called us earlier.”

Dean stayed on the floor clutching his brother for a few precious seconds longer before Stiles was pulled from him by the Sheriff who was blubbering in a show of emotion rarely seen. He clutched his son’s face as though to convince himself he was actually there before hugging him a little too tight.

Dean watched the touching moment as the pack welcomed his brother back, the scent marking leaving him a little uncomfortable, so he left to refill his glass. He knew Cas was only two seconds behind him, and while part of him knew this might raise suspicions, he found he didn’t care right now.

“I’d ask you not to do that again if I thought it would mean anything.” Cas murmured his voice nothing but vibrations against Dean’s back and neck as he pressed up against him from behind, his slightly smaller frame meaning his breath was flowing tantalisingly across Dean’s neck.

Dean didn’t know how to reply, so he didn’t. he just leant back and took comfort in the heavy weight of Cas against his back. They stood there for a few minutes, no one saying anything before they separated naturally and returned to the living room as though they had never left.

The pack are still wrapped around Stiles, with Derek pressed against his back and the others touching him in some way. He looked overwhelmed, eyes wide, a tight smile on his face which was turned towards Dean, pleading.

“Right.” Dean started, clapping his hands loudly disrupting the touching scene. “Rule number one: No chick flick moments. Let’s order a pizza or something.”

That comment seemed to annoy pretty much everyone in the room, but Lydia flipped her hair before opening her mouth to say something scathing, Alison shot him a look of betrayal and Erica appeared to be analysing her claws. No one said anything though because Stiles’ relief was clear, his body relaxed and as soon as he was able, he slipped out of the puppy pile.

“Dylan’s should still be open.” The Sheriff remarked, checking his watch with a quietly happy smile on his face.

“Not a chance!” Stiles hissed, spinning to look at his father accusingly. “I have no idea what kind of rubbish you’ve been gobbling up since I’ve been….” He seemed to have dipped back into the dark place but it barely lasted a couple of seconds before he was back “gone, so we’ll be having a salad or something.”

“Come on Kid. That’s torture and you know it!”

“No grown man can live off rabbit food, Stiles.” Dean chimed in, “But to appease your authoritarian eating rules, I’ll make some burgers or something”

“Like you did when I was little?” Stiles and Alison asked at the same time, both unnecessarily excited, Stiles’ face crumpled in confusion at Alison’s voice.

“Not Benny’s?” Sam asked, a little disappointed, not noticing what was going on between Stiles and Alison.

“Not this time.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you take some of the pack to the store to buy whatever shit we need for this – I have no idea how much a wolf eats. And Stiles can come help me and I’ll explain some things.”

When no one moved he clapped his hands again, “come on, move it! And the rest of you can go shower and change your clothes. Move!” everyone scattered, even the Sheriff and Derek though they seemed the most reluctant to leave. Cas shot Dean a look before he took Jack for a ‘patrol’ through the woods.

“So, you knew Alison, huh?” Stiles asked, his voice fragile and a tiny bit betrayed.

Dean spent the best part of half an hour talking to Stiles, about how he met Alison and assuring him that while he loved Alison, Stiles was his brother – and he would always come first. Stiles threw himself at Dean at that moment, giving in to the whirling emotions inside him and allowing himself a few minutes to break down curled protectively in his older brothers embrace.

“The other’s will be back soon” Dean warned, knowing that Stiles wasn’t ready for everyone to see him being ‘weak’ just yet. Stiles went to the bathroom to clean himself up, Dean could hear the shower kicking in, and was suddenly glad that the Sheriff had realised Stiles needed some privacy and had made himself scarce upstairs all this time.

The Sheriff joined Dean downstairs not long after, and in silence they worked on preparing a salad, peeling and cutting potatoes into chips ready to be made with the burgers, and a few pies for dessert out of whatever canned fruit was lying around.

They’d just finished that when Stiles descended the stairs towelling his hair, he seemed panicked for a second but once he saw Dean and Noah in the kitchen he settled down. He was just pulling himself to sit on the counter that wasn’t being used when the door burst open and the pack clamoured in. Dean set a calming hand on Stiles’ knee to soothe him.

After that, it was a flurry of activity until Stiles got irate and kicked everyone bar himself and Dean into the living room to watch a movie. After a second of pause, he stopped Alison from leaving and Dean taught the both of them to make his famous burgers.

“So,” Dean started, after the food had been dished up and distributed, Stiles’ favourite Disney movie; Lilo and Stitch, on the tv. “Dating a werewolf, huh?” He waggled his eyebrows at Stiles and stifled a laugh at the groan that resonated around the room.

“Mated, actually.” Stiles, snarked, leaning further into Derek’s side to prove a point.

“Mated.” Dean tested the word in his mouth as his mind ran a million miles an hour.

“The sex is really good,” Stiles added, trying to get a reaction.

“Well, that’s something at least.” Dean nodded, teasing his brother. “Makes up for the whole going against our family’s moral code thing.”

“Dean,” Sam warned, knowing Stiles was still fragile right now. But Dean knew he needed this, needed things to go back to normal, and that included the snark, and the jabs and the older brother act.

“Like you can talk.” Stiles sniped back, “With the whole fucking an angel thing.”

Dean was a little taken aback but it didn’t last long, “Anna was years ago.”

“I wasn’t talking about Anna, whoever she is. I was talking about tall dark and trench coat over there.”

Dean’s eyes flitted to Cas guiltily wetting his lips before looking back at Stiles.

“I knew it!” Sam exclaimed, “All these years of denying it.”

“All these years? Wait, hang on” Dean cut in, confusion clear.

“Yeah, I’ve known you guys have been crazy for each other since he pulled you from hell. The sexual tension, the weirdly long emotional eye contact, and everything else.” Sam rolled his eyes and Dean sputtered.

“You’ve been dating an angel for years and you’re judging me?” Stiles asked, tilting his head to one side, eyebrow cocked.

“We haven’t been dating for years!” Dean looked to Cas for help, but he was no help at all, his own head tilted to one side adorably confused. “Have we?”

“You know human courtship rituals are mysterious to me, Dean.” Cas acquiesced.

“When do you think you started dating?” Sam asked finally.

“About six weeks ago!” Dean exclaimed, wishing the room wasn’t full of people witnessing the awkwardness that was unfolding.

“Nothing changed in your relationship then.” Sam crinkled his brow, arms folded.

“We started sleeping together then.” Dean defended.

“Is that what defines a relationship?” Cas asked, “Netflix is very confusing on this subject.”

“Yeah, relationships can basically be anything that the people involved agree on.” Dean paused to explain.

“Cas, when did you think you and Dean started dating?” Stiles asked, an amused grin on his face and he had shifted so he was perched on Derek’s lap to get a better view.

“A long time ago.” Cas admitted, “Not long after I pulled him from Hell. All the angel’s made jokes of me being in love with a human, the humans did too. I did a lot of searching and realised I was. I knew Dean felt the same not long after. I assumed it was one of those ‘chick flick moments’ dean always wants to avoid.”

“Oh my God!” Dean slouched in his seat before standing to pace the room. “I was seeing other people! You were seeing other people! I don’t even … what? How?” He shook his head back and fore in quick succession, huffing a deep breath.

“I must admit, when you moved in with Lisa I was confused, but I just thought it was another human thing I didn’t understand.”

“This is gold.” Stiles interrupted mischievous glint in his eye.

“Shouldn’t we be talking about how the clearly underage son of the Sheriff is perched in the lap of a man who is clearly too old?” Dean tried to deflect.

“I’m enjoying this too much to even care, son.” The Sheriff laughed, sending Dean a commiserating look.

“What’s sex with an angel like, anyway?” Erica asked, a salacious grin on her face.

“Would sure as hell beat sex with a werewolf.” Dean snarked, a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Wanna find out?” Erica asked, checking Dean out teasingly. Boyd growled and pulled her closer to himself.

Dean sent her an unamused look “Re: underage.”. She rolled her eyes in return but didn’t comment further.

“So you guys weren’t dating when you decided to become my dads?” Jack asked, shifting uncomfortably, not understanding the emotions of the room.

“Your dads?” Dean asked, seeming floored by the question.

“Uh-huh, Cas told my mother he’d look after me, and she decided he was my father. But you took me to all the places your dad took you, you made me get matching tattoos and taught me to drive the Impala. Those are father and son things – right?”

Dean floundered, looking at everyone in the room for help and receiving none. “Uh yeah, pretty much adopted you – but no, I wasn’t seeing Cas then. Or at least I wasn’t aware I was seeing Cas.” Dean took a breath before blurting “Cas, let’s go have that talk we’ve apparently been putting off for 4 years.” There was no room in his voice for disagreement, from anyone.

The room was silent as Dean stormed out, Cas hurrying behind him looking serene. Sam broke the silence with a laugh, “How the hell can one man be so blind?”

“Probably had something to do with his cripplingly low self-esteem and internalised homophobia courtesy of dad.” Stiles thought aloud, his gaze slightly guilty as he watched the door.

“They’ll be fine.” Jack soothed, “They always are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this took me a long time to write, and I'm still not happy with it but here ya go.
> 
> It's year three of uni so the pressure is on, updates won't be as often as I'd like. I hope y'all stick around anyway.
> 
> Do you want to read the conversation between Dean and Cas or should I just skip over that?


	7. Drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I managed to find the time to write this, I hope you enjoy the rollercoaster

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Cas asked as Dean struggled out of the car with a large stack of pizzas and two bags of sides. Dean shot Cas a look that had him rolling his eyes, but he leant back down to grab the rest of the pizzas. “At least let me heal –“

“Don’t.” Dean hissed, managing to dodge Cas’ hand without dropping any of the pizzas. Dean knew exactly what Cas was talking about, the perfect imprint of teeth in the side of his neck – Cas’ teeth to be specific. But this wasn’t something he wanted to hide anymore, not that he had any choice with his nosy ass brothers around.

Dean knocked his boot against the front door harshly a few times, a familiar knock he and Sam always used to alert the other to their presence. The door swung open, but it was Derek that greeted them and not Sam.

Dean sent him a respectful nod, brushing past him and into the living room. “Honey, I’m home!” He called, “and I brought dinner!” he dropped most of the pizzas on the table, saving two. He handed the top one to the Sheriff “Meat feast, stuffed crust.”

“We’re being petty today, huh?” Stiles asks, a wry grin on his face as he watches his father eat half a slice in one bite – afraid his son would take it from him.

“Oh yeah, you betcha.” Dean shot a smile at his brother, mouth also full of pizza. Looking Stiles in the eye he pulled a container of curly fries out of the bag on the table (the only container he’d bought) and proceeded to shovel them into his mouth.

“Dean, you’re going to choke” Cas cautioned, stealing a slice of pizza from Dean’s box. Dean sent him a wink but did slow down.

“What a pretty mark you’ve got Dean.” Stiles finally commented, eyes glinting with mischief. Which weirdly set Dean at ease, it felt like his brother was finally back. The room relaxed, possibly for the first time since the Winchester’s returned. The brotherly teasing creating an atmosphere where everyone could enjoy their time.

“I could say the same thing kiddo,” Dean replied, eyes settling on a matching Mark on Stiles’ neck. Something told him this one was more permanent, was a lasting mark of his relationship with the Alpha.

“Yeah… alright, we get it.” Sam interrupted rolling his eyes, “You’re both disgustingly in love. Let’s move on.”

“Jealous, Sammy?” Stiles and Dean spoke at the same time. “Jinx.” They both rolled their eyes and the sheriff coughed in a way that silenced both of them.

“Bad things happen to the women Sammy dates,” Dean muttered conversationally, voice light showing he was teasing despite the weight of the words.

“Oh, shut up!” Sam snapped, throwing a piece of Lettuce at his brother.

“Stop it.” The sheriff warned, eyes trailing significantly around the room as though sensing the beginnings of a food fight.

“Yes, sir,” Dean replied, the only one to do so. Settling in to eat his food more quietly, his entire attitude subdued. The sheriff sent a hopeless look to Stiles who shrugged before making a comment to Dean about his jeep, knowing it would start a rant.

Before long, the feeling of being full and the realisation that they hadn’t slept for a day and a half settled in and everyone found they were struggling to stay awake.

Dean watched in amazement as the pack seemed content to fall asleep in what can only be known as a ‘puppy pile’ everyone’s body was strewn across someone else’s, arms and legs seemingly thrown everywhere.

“I’m going to sleep somewhere that isn’t here. But I’ll be right upstairs if you need me.” Dean commented, meaning heavy and the eye contact he kept with his brother was even heavier. But he turned quickly, pulling Cas behind him as he made his way to Stiles’ bed – refusing to leave Stiles for an entire night (expecting the nightmares to be insane) but also not comfortable sleeping with a bunch of teenage werewolves.

Sam and Jack were going to find a motel to get a real night’s sleep, and the Sheriff had left his son reluctantly in capable hands (Derek’s mainly) and was in his own bedroom.

Stiles’ twin bed was rather small for two grown men, but they made it work. Curling around each other the way they would in the Impala. Dean’s head pillowed on Cas’ shoulder, Cas’ arms protecting him even in sleep.

“They’ll be okay you know?” Cas spoke as Dean was on the verge of sleep. “Everything will be okay.” Dean nodded, too far gone to reply and slipped into a peaceful sleep but not before thinking that those words should never be said – they only invited chaos.

His sleep didn’t last for long, interrupted by a sound he never wanted to hear. Stiles was screaming, begging the Nogitsune to leave him alone. Dean jumped out of bed, not bothering to get dressed, his red boxers standing out even in the low light. He took the stairs as quickly as he could and burst into the living room, the sheriff a second behind him.

He was met with a room of helpless eyes, begging him to help as Stiles continued to scream despite their interventions.

“Hey buddy,” Dean murmured as he sat on the floor behind Stiles, folding his writhing limbs to his body and pulling him into a tight embrace. “I know it’s scary but it’s just a dream. Come on Kiddo, come back to us.” His words weren’t having any effect, not that that surprised Dean so he did the only thing he could think of, he started singing the opening lines of Hey Jude.

When Stiles was little, he used to have nightmares a lot, always the same things; that his family would leave him because he wasn’t good enough. It was probably sparked by John not sticking around. Dean remembers the number of times he’d wake from where he was sleeping on Stiles’ bedroom floor to his whimpers and cries. And even then he’d known the only thing he could do was sing the song his mom used to sing for him.

The memories related to that song weren’t always good ones, but they were always followed by a cuddle on the sofa and a cup of hot cocoa. It was the good memories of him and Dean that pulled Stiles from the nightmare. He stopped fighting immediately going limp and silent. A wounded sound escaping him when Dean stopped singing, and Dean instantly picked it back up. Allowing his brother to bury himself in the comfort of his arms and the memories of many nights like this.

Dean looked at the pack and tilted his chin towards the door pointedly. Thankfully they seemed to get the message, the sheriff as well and they all filed out, trusting Dean to deal with this. Stiles would have been horrified if he knew the pack watched his breakdown, but the second he could hear they were upstairs the tears started flowing. And dean, the hater of all chick flick moments just held him and sang softly into his ear.

When Stiles’ tears finally slowed, Dean stopped singing and spoke. “I know this is hard. I know that you’ve been drowning for months and now even though you know you should be happy that you can finally breathe freely again each breath feels like it's going to be your last. That you’re going to wake up and suddenly you’ll be so far under the water you can’t even see the light because you forgot to fight in your moments of peace.

But I promise you, I promise you, Stiles, that it’s over. The Nogitsune is gone. And he won't ever hurt you like that again. You’re safe to breathe, relish in the peace Stiles.”

“I don’t know how to be strong,” Stiles whined, voice broken and croaky from the crying. Face still buried against Dean’s throat.

“Don’t start with that bullshit kiddo. If you didn’t know how to be strong, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. You are one of the strongest people I know, there are not many people out there who can fight off possession and live to tell the tale. You are strong Stiles. You’ve survived this.”

“Then why is this so hard. If I'm so strong this should be easy.”

“It’s your strength that’s holding you back.” Dean laughed softly, knowing his next words were going to be incredibly hypocritical. “Now isn’t the time for strength, it’s not the time for fighting. It’s time for healing and recovering. Its time to be vulnerable, Kid. To trust that we’ll catch you when you fall. Let yourself hurt, Stiles. You don’t have to be strong any more.”

“I can’t let anyone see how fucked up I am, Dean. No one could possibly understand.”

“That’s where you’re wrong Kid, you want to talk possession? I’ve just recovered from being possessed myself, you want to talk guilt? I’m sure Derek who still blames himself for the deaths of his family would love to talk about that with you. You want to talk about the drowning? I could talk to you about that for hours. We’re your family, Stiles, and while we won't understand everything exactly as it happened to you we’ll have enough of an idea that we can listen so that we can help – if you let us.”

Stiles was silent for a moment, stewing in his thoughts before he whispered, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I wish I could’ve been here sooner, kiddo.”

“You know how you can make it up to me?” There was a hint of mischief in his voice that told Dean he would be okay. Stiles would survive this.

“Anything.”

“Hot chocolate. And cuddles.”

“Go tell your loser friends to come down, show them you’re okay and we can have cocoa in your room while they get some rest. I’ll bring it up.” they untangled themselves from the floor, Stiles scrubbing his face almost violently as he turned to leave.

“Don’t forget the cinnamon and marshmallows”

“Aye aye captain.”

The rest of the night was better, the cocoa seemed to calm Stiles and after a while of Dean stroking his hair he drifted into a heavy sleep. But dean didn’t sleep, he only needed four hours and he’d gotten three before Stiles woke. Instead, he watched his brother as he slept, humming a familiar tune every time his face scrunched up, or he whimpered or gave any sign at all that he was slipping into a nightmare.

It was just gone nine when Stiles started to wake naturally, no nightmare in sight. Dean slammed his eyes shut before his brother could wake and pretended to be asleep – not wanting Stiles to know what he’d done.

He must have actually dozed off because he woke to the smell of bacon and pulled his jeans on with one eye shut and stumbled down the stairs. The house was full, and he had a feeling he’d just have to get used to that – none of Stiles’ pack seemed interested in leaving.

Someone made a comment about how it was nice to see him half-dressed, but it would be better if he could scrounge up a shirt. He’s not sure who, he was much too tired to give a shit. He grabbed a cup of coffee off the counter, not caring who’s it was and drank it all in one go. Ignoring their squawk as he turned the coffee maker on.

“Rough night?” Stiles asked tentatively as he put a plate heaped with bacon and eggs into his hands.

“You know I’m no good before my coffee.” He appeased, forcing himself to become more alert. “Hey, where’s Cas?”

“Mentioned something about getting you a gift since you deserved it and disappeared,” Stiles explained making two cups of coffee and putting one beside Dean at the counter. He passed the other to Isaac and Dean sent him an apologetic look which the kid shrugged off. “You got yourself a good one there, big bro.”

“Uh-huh.” Dean agreed, mouth too full to formulate words.

“Positively angelic.”

“You know what, kid? You’re cruising* is what you are.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Half an hour later Cas was back, appearing in the middle of the room with a large box which he handed to Dean. Dean opened it, aware of the fact that everyone was watching him.

“You didn’t… how did you even?”

“I went to Bobby’s and took all the workable parts from all the vehicles that looked the same.”

Dean grinned and pressed a kiss to his lips, blushing furiously as the room erupted into catcalls and whistles.

“Guess you’re getting a workable engine today,” Dean told Stiles, his voice still slightly scolding.

“Good. Roscoe deserves everything he can get.”

He was on his way to the car when his phone rang, digging it out of his pocket he checked the caller ID and answered.

“Jodi hey, what’s up?”

“Jodi is missing Dean.” Came Claire’s voice from the other end of the phone. “There’s no sign of her here, no sign of a break-in or of any supernatural activity but she’s gone.”

“It’s been almost two days, We’re starting to get freaked out.” Alex interrupted.

“The rest of you are okay though?” He asked, placing the box down gently and scrubbing a hand down his face. There was always a crisis.

“Yeah, we’re fine. But Dean… the house is covered in pictures of you. They’re everywhere. Someone’s been watching you. They know where you are. Be careful.” Claire was back again, her voice trembled as she tried to stay strong.

“If this is a threat against me then it makes sense that Jodi is alive, she’s just the bait. But I need you guys to head to Donna’s okay? The last thing we need is for you guys to get hurt too.”

“We’re already on our way there. we got the rest of the girls and we’re getting outta dodge.” Alex assured him, her voice calm and soothing in a way only medical professionals or police officers can perfect. The calm in the storm.

“Good. I want hourly check-ins or I’ll have to send someone to watch you.” I ordered and hung up before they could argue.

He shared a significant look with Sam. “Jodi’s missing.”

“I gathered. But why go after her to lure you in. We’re on the other side of the country.”

“I don’t kn-“ Dean was cut off by a sound outside, almost like nails on a chalkboard. Or keys on a car. He shot to the door, there was no one in sight and he almost breathed a sigh of relief before he saw it. Someone had scratched a spiralled design onto his car.

“Son of a bitch!” He raged. “I’ll kill them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *for a bruising, if you don't recognise the phrase :)


End file.
